


some people are worth melting for

by carloabay



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Secret Warriors - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:41:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24214603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carloabay/pseuds/carloabay
Summary: Joey and leaving behind something he never knew he wanted.
Relationships: Joey Gutierrez/Original Character(s), Lincoln Campbell & Joey Gutierrez & Yo Yo Rodriguez & Skye | Daisy Johnson
Comments: 6
Kudos: 9





	some people are worth melting for

**Author's Note:**

> So Joey's bf is called Kevin but it wasn't in the tags so idk I just made him a different name because u know copyright.  
> Also I know no one will read this bc Joey isn't well known but I needed to out it out here to give my boi the recognition he DESERVES cuz he is great

It was good, for a stretch. They were a good team. Maybe Joey regretted ditching Mitch to go and fight Nazis, but when Joey told him (almost) everything two weeks later, Mitch took it remarkably well. Daisy was a good leader and Joey was eager to prove and Lincoln was head over heels and Yo Yo was, well, Yo Yo. Joey didn't lie when he told her how much he admired her enthusiasm to kick the establishment in the nuts. He liked them all, and they worked together in some crooked, disjointed way. Joey knew he would remember Lincoln's words about heroes as long as he lives.

After the others had all returned to base, without Lincoln and without Daisy and bruised and hollow, Joey had finally been let go. The white coats had given him a final check over and Coulson himself had dismissed Joey, a look like the steel of a sword in his eye. Joey had gotten out of there with his Accords tracker sucking his freedom out of him. He'd got on a jet with Yo Yo and his nightbag and they'd sat the whole flight in silence, until a bumpy touchdown where they'd hugged goodbye, her tracker bracelet cutting into the back of his neck. He'd gotten the bus home, almost missing the organised bustle of the base. Clean walls and trolleys of files, Hunter turning the air blue with cussing, Mack's video games and Lincoln's gentle, worried presence. The bus was rickety and dirty, and he could feel the metal frame vibrating like a broken ribcage. The walls of the base had been concrete holding up twenty feet of rock, not soft beams of iron. Joey doubted he'd ever be in such comforting structure ever again.

The bus dropped him a mile from home, and as he walked, time spun in his head like an old, out of order projector reel. There were holes in it: no one had told him anything about Daisy. Yo Yo had spared him the details of Lincoln's end, but he hadn't wanted them anyway. He hadn't cried then, but he knew he would soon. The reel spun on, the first Secret Warriors mission, the hours in confinement, the closing of the tracker over his wrist. Time chased him, snapping at his heels, and then he was back in his own body, and the projector was recording real-time, each step and movement. God, he was so tired. 

He came to a tall, scaffolded building and consciously threw his mind into the structure, his thoughts racing through thin metal beams instead of streaming through his head. He passed under the shadow of the building, felt the tremble in the poles holding up the structure. Or maybe it was him trembling them. He was enough of a mess that he probably shouldn't be anywhere near metal. Joey stuck one hand in his pocket, gripped the strap of his bag, and walked a little faster. 

Half a mile, now. He could see the bend in the road, and a few hundred metres beyond that, his apartment block rose like a beckoning comfort, distant against the blue sky. Joey picked up the pace again, and before he knew it, he was fumbling with his keys in the lock, shifting the strap of his bag to take the weight off, ready to just toss it into the hall. The door swung open and he threw his bag into the coat rack, walked to the couch, buried his face in the cushions and shuddered with something between grief and relief. The cushions smelt like something normal, and then he figured he would take his building over twenty feet of rock any day.

He lay on the couch for a little under an hour, and at one point, thought of the poor sap tracking him, and laughed into the fabric of the couch arm. Then he thought of calling Mitch, and he stopped laughing. Would he even pick up? Joey had been gone for almost a week, and then put in prison and forced to sign the Accords, and Mitch would probably have been watching the whole Vienna thing unfold on TV. Joey thought of getting a job, and grunted into the cushions. No way was he getting anything other than minimum wage until this had all blown over. He'd be getting stares, too, people would avoid him like the plague on the street if they knew. But he was used to it, some of it anyways. He'd been different from some people since he came out, so why should this be any less exhausting? The doorbell rang, and Joey rolled off the couch, hitting his ankle on the corner of the coffee table. He swore in Spanish and limped to the door with a glower that could match May's, and looked through the peephole. Mitch. Hands in his pockets, crinkling his nose and looking around, tapping his foot, waiting. Joey stared at him for a second through the hole, his throat closing up. Mitch couldn't have known when he was coming home. Did that mean he'd come here every day, hoping one might be the time that Joey would be home? Mitch looked nervous. The muscle in his jaw was standing out, and Joey had the sudden urge to just press his face there and hug him and stay like that for as long as both of them could stand. He yanked the door open with way too much force and Mitch, startled, took a step backwards. Silence. Joey felt frozen in his stead. 

"Hey," Mitch said with a little smile. That little smile, like a tiny star in a midst of confusion and grief. The bit of Joey's brain behind his eyes was stinging. 

"Hey," he croaked. 

"You're back."

"Yeah." Less of a word, more of a rush of air. "Sorry." Mitch shook his head.

"Nah, it's ok." He paused and looked down. "I, uh, watched the news." The hiatus that hung between them was driving Joey mad. "You...ok?" 

"I'm…" He held up his wrist wordlessly, and his sleeve slid back to reveal the tracker. "I'm ok. If you're not…"

"No. I am. God, Joe. I'm not leaving just 'cause someone decided you're not stable." Mitch's words were way too rushed, but they made Joey's knees weak with relief.

"Cool." Say something else, Joey. Mitch nodded at the bracelet.

"Designer, huh?" And just like that, all was good. They both cracked smiles and before he knew what was happening, Joey was pressing his face into Mitch's jaw and wrapping his arms around him, tight like he could just extend them and tie them to each other so they wouldn't have to keep away anymore. "You're not ok, Joe," Mitch mumbled into Joey's ear. Joey extricated himself from Mitch grip with a frown.

"What?" Mitch reached out and tapped Joey's bracelet.

"I mean this. This isn't ok. It's not right, is it?" Mitch looked at him with a pressure that could almost have Joey's ears pop.

"Hey, no, I'm good," Joey argued, reaching for Mitch's hand. "This is fine. It's other things, I just got-" he squinted at nothing. "I got a lotta processing. Sorry, I don't wanna-"

"Don't give me the 'I don't wanna put it on you' shit," Mitch said, a serious undertone lining his playfulness. He squeezed Joey's hand. "You're crazy if you think I'm letting you sit and stew. I'm staying here." Joey chose to ignore the fact that they'd practically moved in together with just that one sentence. He ignored it because Mitch's hand was the best thing in the world right now, better than food and normal smelling cushions and underground bunkers with concrete structures. Mitch's structure was bone and incomprehensible, unconditional support, not soft metal that would melt under Joey's scorching fingers. And Mitch could read his mind, because he slid his other fingers into Joey's hair and pulled him closer again, tucking him into the curve of his shoulder. 

"I can't tell you," Joey grunted into the warmth of Mitch's sweater, and Mitch just held him tighter.

"I know. We'll find some way around it, huh?" You're too good to me, Joey thought. "Just try not to melt the door handle again, yeah?" Joey checked the handle over Mitch's shoulder and groaned. It was bent and deformed, halfway through dripping to the floor.

"Dammit," he growled. Mitch laughed. "Good thing you're not made of metal," Joey offered, but Mitch just sighed, his breath warming Joey's cheek, and kissed him, right by Joey's ear.

"I'd stay and let you melt me if I was," Mitch said, and then he kissed him again and again and again, until Joey couldn't think of anything else apart from the wetting of his eyes and the press of Mitch's lips. Mitch pulled away with a grin and stared at Joey with a bright green gaze. "Some people are worth melting for." Joey shoved him a little bit, pushed him into the wall.

"Had to go and ruin the moment," he said, pressing his palms into his pricking eyes. But he didn't mind. Mitch was here, for him, and that was all he needed to start over.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing of the MCU


End file.
